#nightingale

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time / I have been half in love with easeful Death... ↗

— John Keats

#death

Liar. You've loved me since I held your hand at your mother's memorial service when you were five years old. ↗

— Kristen Ashley

#kristen-ashley #lee-nightingale #rock-chick #love

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a musèd rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! ↗

— John Keats

#nightingale #art

Here is the soundless cypress on the lawn: It listens, listens. Taller trees beyond Listen. The moon at the unruffled pond Stares. And you sing, you sing. That star-enchanted song falls through the air From lawn to lawn down terraces of sound, Darts in white arrows on the shadowed ground; And all the night you sing. My dreams are flowers to which you are a bee As all night long I listen, and my brain Receives your song, then loses it again In moonlight on the lawn. Now is your voice a marble high and white, Then like a mist on fields of paradise, Now is a raging fire, then is like ice, Then breaks, and it is dawn. ↗

— Harold Monro

#nightingales #song #dreams

Neruda had his first dream, First meeting with the Moon and the Sun In sunny La Mancha, hiding in his heart, Where he learned how to sing like a nightingale. ↗

— Dejan Stojanovic

#heart #la-mancha #moon #neruda #nightingale

Once the door closed, Tod turned to me. “Girlie, he is fine. He’s fine times twelve. He’s the new definition of fine.” “I’ve been in love with him since I was five,” I told Tod. “I’m in love with him now. I want to have his children,” Tod told me. ↗

— Kristen Ashley

#lee-nightingale #tod #love